I have never been a loyal person. For all of my life I’ve been the lone wolf type – and I happened to marry a lone wolf. It’s not that I didn’t try to be a team player, it’s just that I always found myself ushered off to the side to fend for myself. And this is problematic when you get married, which is a team sport.
“Team sport” doesn’t mean you make yourself smaller to make the other bigger, or you forfeit your rights for the sake of someone else. It’s not fading into someone. You learn to coexist. In a marriage you have two whole people fighting alongside each other for each other.
So when I felt threatened by my husband, my first instinct wasn’t to try to help or understand him. It was fight or flight and I ran. I didn’t understand the full implications of being in a battle together. So far he’s really had my back and I haven’t had his. Maybe I used to before my diagnosis about a year ago. People make fun of fibro but when you’re diagnosed at 26 during your engagement it is real serious.
It’s no stretch of the imagination that having fibro and a myriad of other new physical diagnoses damaged my relationship with my husband. Chronic pain warps your mind. It takes your anxiety to a different level and gifts you paranoia like you wouldn’t believe.
So, today when I received a phone call from him, I fractured inward on himself.
I can’t share what exactly happened to Bear, but there’s a shark in the water. I know he reads this blog so I won’t go into the details, but it’s huge and bad.
How can I be apart from him right now? He needs me. But I also need me so I can be there for him. I hate that I’m even in this position, because I feel that it is my fault that I’m not there.
Bear, I’m sorry and I may not understand completely, but I’m trying to. I am sitting with you.